I’ve lived through some genuinely frightening seasons—and some of those fears actually came true.
But how much of life is lived in fear that never materializes at all? When I say fear, I mean the old-fashioned kind: imagined fear. The kind the mind manufactures when there’s nothing urgent happening.
For years, I struggled with flying—not the act of being on a plane, but everything leading up to it. The anticipation. The mental rehearsals. The endless creation of scenarios. Ironically, when the day of travel finally arrived, I often felt calmer than I had in the days before. Almost a surrender. As if my body and soul were saying, Okay, it’s here. No more imagining. It is what it is.
The mind, when bored, tends to light a fire just to have something to watch burn. It creates danger to pass the time. The emotional and physical reactions that follow feel real—but the story behind them often isn’t. We never actually leave our seat in the theater of life. We are watching the movie, not acting in it.
Many spiritual teachers point to this truth—Jesus among them: the soul is not the mind. The mind is a tool, not our identity.
So I practice—practice, not perfection—sitting quietly and saying, I am here. The mind may wander wherever it wants, but I don’t have to follow it. I can let it travel alone.
I choose to stay with God.
Not with my thoughts.
Not with my emotions.
Just here.
“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in You.”
— Isaiah 26:3
Closing Prayer
God, quiet the noise within me.
When my mind runs ahead of You, gently call me back.
Teach me to rest in Your presence instead of rehearsing fear.
Let me trust You with what is, not what might be.
Help me stay—right here—with You.
Amen.
